Love of an Angel
by FlamingWolf
Summary: How feelings change over the course of a series. AmonRobin, SakakiDojima, KarasumaMicheal pairings.
1. Fire and Darkness

It was all an accident to begin with. I know what they say about bondings happening in that first moment when you lay eyes on that one person that you will live and breathe and die for. I suppose that even a man who has deserted God has to believe in something; a bond so deep that God himself is afraid to interfere with it. I don't know why God chose me to be her protector. Maybe He has a sense of humor.  
  
That first day, we passed in the corridor. I raised my eyes at the sound of her step and saw her approaching, a vision of light and dark, purity and evil. Her hair caught my attention immediately, but then again, you don't see many blondes in Japan. It shone in the dim light. Fire gleamed in her green eyes and in the amulet she wore around her neck. Her movements were graceful and her black gown flowed like the shadows of the queen of night. I could feel the darkness and turmoil of her thoughts, and yet she was so soft, so vulnerable. An aura of holiness surrounded her, and she had the serenity of one who knows God; Saint Francis maybe, or Joan, perhaps.  
  
I loved her immediately, foolish as it may seem.  
  
Our eyes locked...she passed me. A cloud of madness and silence enveloped her, so palpable I could taste it. Heat from a powerful forge surrounded me and I immediately feared that I may have to hunt this angel someday. I could have held her fire, her craft was so evident and powerful.  
  
We watched one another until she turned a corner. I knew then that my soul had found its fate.  
  
Yet how does one love an angel?  
  
I was alone. I was used to not being needed, but one does start to feel desolate when one is turned away, has nowhere to go, and knows no one. I longed for a chapel. Somehow, I don't think God has time to listen to each individual prayer, but it helps to combat the thought that no one in the world cares whether you live or die.  
  
I once told a girl that I was more in the habit of believing in God. I still don't know whether or not I do. I felt betrayed by the fact that such a lover of beauty could be such a destructive, homicidal witch. This was several days after I arrived in Tokyo.  
  
I looked up as I heard footsteps right in front of me. My only impression was of darkness; dark hair, dark clothes, dark eyes. He was so pale, and his darkness seemed to make him a demon of the night or a vampire. His eyes held me. I was helpless under his gaze. He was so strong, so gruff, so sure of himself. He threw off an aura to rebuff anyone who came near.  
  
We passed. His expression flickered for an instant. I couldn't read him. He was so elegant. I felt through his projection and in an instant I knew he was vulnerable, gentle...and forced to hide it to survive. Cool winds followed him and wrapped around me, calming my fears. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and let him protect me.  
  
I loved him.  
  
Our eyes remained bound until I rounded a corner. I stopped and leaned against the wall, weak in my emotions.  
  
I would never be alone again. 


	2. First Sign

Amon himself wasn't sure why he had done this. He walked back out of the room, hearing the new huntress behind him protest indignantly that there was nothing wrong with her eyes. His boot heels clicked imperiously, belying his inner thoughts. She had sounded somewhat angry with him, and he now for some reason wanted to reason with her, tell her why he had done this. He wasn't quite sure why it was that it bothered him to see her rubbing her temples after hunts as though she had a colossal headache.

His face was calm, his stride steady. Inwardly, he seethed with annoyance. Why was she so stubborn and childish at times, and yet so otherworldly at others? And furthermore, why did he care?

&

Amon's irritation hadn't diminished much when he returned to the office and learned that Robin and Karasuma had left to investigate the Ueno KKoen murders. Instantly, he was out the door again, this time his anger mixed and partly aimed at himself. Perhaps if he had given her something more to do than just look over old files...

He checked the orbo charge in his modified Walther as he moved steadily through the park, ignoring the presence of Sakaki, who had followed him out of the office, then froze at the sound of Karasuma's voice calling out Robin's name. He broke into a run, ignoring the stares of several of the civilians he passed.

He careened into the clearing and stopped, heart in his mouth at the sight of the witch and her power stripping the bark from the tree Robin sheltered behind. His healthy intelligence provided his imagination with several ideas of what that power could do to her.

Amon barely noticed Sakaki's presence at his side as he saw Robin leap from behind the tree, eyes ablaze as she targeted the witch.

Feeling rushed back into his body, and in one smooth motion he brought the orbo gun up and fired.

Their eyes met over the falling form of the witch. He noticed the glasses perched on her nose, as if in a peace offering. Almost shyly, he let the ghost of a smile slip across his lips...for a moment or two.

&

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the wait in updating. After this scene, I branch entirely away from the series in a new direction. The first two installments were the scenes I had chosen to convince friends of mine of the connection between Amon and Robin. After this, it's all AU.

Stay tuned for chapter three: Sakaki and Doujima!


	3. New Years Revelations

Doujima stretched on stiletto-heeled feet on a ballroom chair, trying to pin up the last of the New Year's decorations, with the aid of one of the maids of her family's mansion. She didn't particularly like the annual party her family threw for members of the STN (as an officer, "it was his duty to raise company morale", and to hell for one night with non-fraternization), but she suffered through. She'd much rather be in a night club somewhere, or upstairs in her room with a stack of magazines, manga, and books. She hated playing the hostess, but mama always claimed that she "needed to be seen".

She dropped lightly off the chair, taking a moment to calm herself. She didn't want anyone near her to pick up on her tension...

The doorbell rang, and she moved quickly to answer it. Her jaw dropped in shock as she admitted Amon. He had pulled his hair back in a low tail, and a silver Celtic knot dangled from his left ear, which was not freshly pierced. Most shockingly, he wore not all black, but a red silk shirt that clung to his well-built chest, yet hung elegantly loose from his arms and wrists. He was hot, sexy, and Doujima bit back the urge to ask him out.

"Thought I'd offer any last minute help," Amon volunteered, and Doujima flashed a bright smile.

"Take your hidden talents to the kitchen and help the cooks. I'll be finishing up in the dining room," She said, not at all adverse to putting this particular guest to work, no matter how socially unacceptable that normally would be. Indeed, she rather enjoyed this chance to order Amon around.

A half-smirk crossed his face. "I forgot you knew my shameful secret."

"That you're practically a gourmet? Amon the kitchen witch!" She giggled... and found herself tripping over nothing in those stilettos. Amon looked completely innocent- for him- as he passed.

The preparations with his help took half the time to complete. Amon wandered into ballroom. Karasuma, Robin, Sakaki, and Micheal arrived in a group, the team having petitioned for Micheal to have the night off as well. Doujima took one look at them and pulled her sister aside.

"Play gracious hostess for a moment. Robin needs help."

Matsu glanced and winced. "Will do," She whispered before gliding forward to meet the others as Doujima took Robin smoothly aside, murmuring things like "I should have warned you it was a bit formal; you might be able to fit something of my sister's".

Robin blushed as Doujima wondered if Robin owned anything besides the Victorian era dress. Within twenty minutes, Robin was dressed in a knee-length, off the shoulder dress that matched her eyes, a pair of low heels, loosely curled hair, mascara, and lip gloss.

The rest of the party had arrived, and the men especially were quite appreciative. Robin was blushing again as Doujima began to introduce him around.

"Our Little Bird cleans up rather well, doesn't she?" Micheal murmured to his companions with a slight smile, glancing at Amon, whose eyes had widened fractionally. Sakaki chuckled and wandered off in search of something to drink. Micheal gathered his courage and finished his thought,

"But I prefer brunettes. Would you care to dance, Karasuma?"

&

Micheal glanced at the clock, noting with some surprise that it was nearly midnight. He looked sideways at Karasuma as the countdown started and at the stroke of the new year, he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to hers.

"Happy New Years, Miho,"He murmured, then swiftly turned and left.

&

Doujima sank down onto the couch in the dark living room with a nearly silent sigh. She knew that she should still be mingling with the guests but she couldn't bring herself to move. It was after midnight, and she was tired and miserable, and she had just hurt herself in those damned heels besides.

A footstep sounded behind her, and she half turned on the couch with a polite smile glued back onto stiff lips.

"Doujima?" Sakaki asked. "Are you in here?"

"Yes. I know I should be-" She trailed off as he entered and approached the couch. Moonlight softly illuminated the room with a ghostly silver glow, and Doujima had the lingering idea that she might be dreaming, it seemed so unreal.

"It's OK. I saw you turn your ankle as you left and thought you might need some ice." He said, holding up the bucket he carried as he sat at the end of her couch and lifted the afflicted limb onto his lap. "Happy New Year's by the way, Yurika."

Doujima's heart leapt as he addressed her by her given name, but her traitorous voice broke a little as she replied,

"Happy New Year's, Haruto."

"What's wrong?" He asked, concerned, looking up at his coworker as he wrapped the ankle. Doujima bit her lip, but all of her feelings tumbled out, aided by the champagne she had been drinking all evening in an attempt to settle her nerves.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Haruto, I'm grateful for your help, but...I feel so useless. I hate socializing, so daddy decided that maybe I should follow his line of work and start at the office, but I'm no good as a hunter, either. I can't even take care of a twisted ankle, and I _loathe_ hunting!"

Sakaki inhaled sharply as a wave of helplessness and low self-confidence washed over his own feelings of surprise and sympathy for the beautiful girl.

"You're an empathist, Yurika? I never knew..."He commented softly. She didn't reply, and he gently set down her foot and took her into his arms. "No wonder you have such a hard time, if your craft is picking up what the witch feels."

"I didn't mean to send. I should be more tightly shielded," She said softly, in a more formal tone again.

"Don't," He said, referring to her pulling back from him emotionally. "Is empathy your craft, then?"

"Yes, I'm a mind-mage. I have a personal danger sense, empathy, and potential."  
"Potential for?" He asked, before remembering that it was rude to ask another hunter her craft.

She answered anyway,

"Mind healing."

"Oh, Yurika..." He breathed in horror, his arms tightening around her. He knew that all healers had a compulsion to work their craft, an inner drive to use their powers to help others. In some severe cases, the craft overwhelmed the witch, causing them to drain their own personal energy in an attempt to heal their patient. Doujima's potential would drive her into danger, forcing her to try to heal every witch she came across, dragging her into the path of insane witches who didn't care who they hurt with their crafts...

Torturing her...

"Amon drives me nuts, he's so angsty and messed up!" She joked feebly, but he could almost taste an old fear in the air around her. He understood. If a mind healer went witch...

"You don't have to worry. You're still only potential," He whispered to her, holding her even closer. She clung to him until sleep loosened her grip. Gently, he laid her back down on the couch and pulled the couch cover down around her for a blanket. He stepped back, looking at her as the moonlight kissed her pale skin and golden hair, bleaching her with the look of a heavenly being, lost on earth.

"Good night, dear queen, and flights of angels lead thee to thy rest," He whispered, corrupting Hamlet, and silently pulled the door to behind him.

&

**Author's Note**: This chapter was written two years ago, when I was getting dressed for a performance after cosplaying Robin, so I was wearing the above mentioned green dress with handlebars. My cousin (who happens to have been cosplaying Karasuma) commented that it was highly unlikely that Robin would ever get caught dead in an outfit like that, so I wrote a scenario where she would... I just decided to expand on it and add it as a chapter earlier this evening when I re-found it...


End file.
